Confined
by kokonut10
Summary: A man wakes up inside a small metal cell with no clue to how he got there. Inspired by Matthew Reilly.


_**Unknown Location, unknown time**_

The man slowly rolled over on the cold metallic ground. He slowly came to as he did so. As soon as he had, he quickly became aware of a searing pain in his right shoulder. A few seconds later, his eyes flew open and darted around, taking in his current surroundings.

He was in a small, square metal room. There was nothing else in there, except for him.

Besides the ominous feeling he was getting from being in that confined space, he also felt a little queasy, as it felt as if he was _moving_ up and down and side to side very slowly.

He uneasily came to his feet, shaking slightly, his shoulder still burning with pain.

_Why the hell is it hurting so much_, he asked himself. He glanced at the spot on the floor he had been laying on, and saw a shocking sight.

There was an enormous pool of dried blood resting on the cold ground. He peered down at his shoulder and gasped.

His grey stained shirt was splattered in blood. His shirt also had a ragged hole in it, which was where the blood seemed to have come from. He carefully lifted the shirt up and discovered that his shirt wasn't the only thing that had a hole in it. At some stage or another, he had been _shot_...

"Where am I?" the man said aloud.

He walked around all the edges of his prison, looking for any kind of door, and if it was possible to get out of it somehow.

After what seemed like hours, he discovered no way he could get out. He took a quick look at the roof to see if there was a door up there, but there wasn't.

_If there were no doors on this thing, how did I get in_? He thought. His visions were cloudy, and he couldn't remember anything up to the point when he woke up. He glanced at his shoulder again, aching from the bullet hole. He walked into a corner of his box and slumped down against a wall, holding his wound with his hand, struggling to remember something, anything, about how he got in here. He closed his eyes and relaxed. After a few minutes, small pieces of information started to come back to him…

_**35 Lurien Avenue, New York City, 24 hours earlier**_

"Hey Travis, hurry up man, we gotta keep moving," a man said hurriedly. In one hand he carried a metal bar, roughly cut off at one end. He was talking to another man, who somehow appeared in the metal box prison a day later. His hands were empty.

"I can't believe you just did that!" Travis said, "We're defiantly getting the death sentence now!"

"For what? Killing a few people? Or breaking into that safe?"

"Both! Man, what have you gotten us into?"

"Just follow my lead Travis."

The two men, Travis and the other, were hurriedly running from several police cars, sirens and lights flaring.

"I can't believe you didn't grab anything! What the hell kind of assistant are you?" the other man said to Travis.

"The goddamn alarm went off! What else was I supposed to do?!"

The other man sighed heavily. "Just go ahead for a bit, I'll hold these guys off for a bit."

Travis nodded and continued to run ahead, while the other man stopped and faced the police cars with a slight smirk on his face.

The man quickly threw the metal bar at the road. With a wide sweep of his hand, something extraordinary happened. The metal bar somehow _expanded_, and turned to what looked like liquid metal. Barely seconds after this, a literal wall of metal shot up from this into the air, blocking the entire road within three seconds. As soon as the wall was formed, the metal went solid again. The man smiled as he heard the satisfying smashing on the other side of the barrier, which he figured were the police cars piling up onto the wall.

The man went forward again to join Travis, who was just standing on the spot, staring at the metal wall.

"I told you not to stare at it like that. It isn't like you haven't seen it before. Keep moving. That wall ain't gonna last forever. There are other streets you know."

"Oh, really?" Travis said sarcastically.

On the other side of the metal wall, a police officer by the name of Charles Daniels emerged from the wreck of his car, with a large cut above his right eye. He quickly reached into his pocket and took out his radio. He put it up to his face.

"Chief, this is Officer Daniels. We're definitely dealing with Manipulators here...no, only Singular. One just stuck a wall of metal up for Christ's sake! Get some birds out here, now!"

He threw the radio to the ground in frustration.

Meanwhile on the other side of the wall, Travis and his companion continued to run.

"Where we gonna go now Travis?" the man asked.

"We don't really have a choice! We'll have to make a run for my house! It's just up the road!"

"You promise you'll actually _help_ in getting away from these guys this time?"

"Yeah man."

"Let's do this."

As they ran up the street, two cops suddenly jumped out from an alley, both brandishing Glock pistols

"Freeze!" one yelled, both guns held up at Travis and his accomplice.

"No thanks!" Travis's buddy yelled and continued to run.

"Stop!" one of the cops yelled and fired his Glock four times at him.

None of the bullets hit its mark. They somehow were frozen in mid air. Travis's buddy was facing them, holding his hand up, and rotating his finger in a slow circle.

The two cops were dumbfounded. Before they got a chance to react, Travis's buddy flicked his wrist and the four bullets went flying _towards_ the cops.

One of the bullets hit one cop in the face. He went down in a fountain of blood. His Glock clattered to the ground soon after. The other was hit in the shoulder and arm, and he dropped like a stole, yelling in pain. He too dropped his pistol.

"Let's go!" Travis yelled and he and the other man continued to dash down the street.

"_Yeah man, I help you kick the ass of any cops who come our way_. Some help you are Travis!" the other man said, mimicking Travis's earlier statement.

"I didn't say that!" Travis retaliated. "You seemed to be going fine without my help."

"I'll remember that next time a man has a gun to your head," the man said.

Suddenly, the two men heard sirens again. More police cars were getting closer.

"Damn! How much further to your place?" the man asked Travis.

"About seven buildings away!"

"We won't make it! We'll have to go into a closer building!"

Without another word, Travis and the other man turned and ran up to a door. Travis tried to open it, but it was locked.

"Stand back buddy," Travis said. He made a quick gesture with his hand, and every single pane of glass on the door shattered instantaneously. Pieces of broken glass rained upon the ground. Travis reached into where one of the panes used to be, and unlocked the door.

"Hurry, before the heat shows!" Travis said. The two men hurried inside. Travis closed the door behind him.

The interior of the house was dark. The people living in here must be asleep.

"Keep quiet, if we wake anyone, they'll call the cops for sure!" Travis whispered.

The two men tip toed through the house, barely making a sound. As they ventured through, they saw beautiful ornate vases sitting on glass tables and a few jewellery boxes accompanying them. There was also a small wooden box sitting in the middle of them all. It seemed very out of place when compared to the more expensive items it was sitting near. On it, there was a single word carved into the lid: _Anna_.

As Travis and his buddy sauntered through, only making quiet stepping sounds, something caught them off guard.

Up a flight of nearby stairs, a light flickered on. They heard footsteps, and a man started to walk down them. His wrinkled face stood out in the light, and his long silver beard flowed down to his chest. He wore half moon glasses and a gown. He seemed completely unaware of Travis and his mate's presence, so they presumed he had gotten up for a snack or something around those lines.

Travis and his buddy kept moving, but about three steps later, Travis stood on something on the ground. A small glass cup. Beneath Travis's large leather boot, it shattered like a twig.

The old man instantly became aware of someone's presence. "Who's there?" he feebly mumbled. From inside his gown, he pulled out a long stick and began tapping nearby objects with it. Travis and his buddy instantly realized. He was blind.

"Don't make me call the cops!" he said, louder this time. Travis and his buddy panicked.

"Shit, find somewhere to hide!" Travis said. He looked around quickly, and saw a wooden closet door right next to where they were standing. He quietly, but quickly opened the door and the two men entered the small closet and closed the door behind them.

The old man looked around and his eyes stared at the closet. He dropped his cane and pointed at the wooden door. With a quick movement of his finger, the entire closet door exploded into a billion splinters, revealing Travis and his buddy, hiding in between some leather coats.

"I may be blind, but I'm not deaf," he said. "Get up."

Travis and his buddy slowly got out of the closet. The old man, even though he was blind, seemed to stare straight into their eyes. It was very disconcerting.

"What are you doing in my house?" the old man asked. Travis and his buddy didn't say anything. The old man continued to stare at them.

"Who are you?" the old man said, his voice starting to sound icy. Travis and his buddy continued their silence.

"Okay then," the old man growled. He pointed at one of the larger splinters of wood from the closet door and flicked his finger up. The splinter followed the old man's finger into the air. Without hesitation, he pointed it at Travis's friend and flicked forward.

At an alarming speed, the splinter flew forward and penetrated Travis's friend's head. Blood poured from the enormous entry and exit wounds. Travis's friend was dead before he hit the ground.

Travis stared in shock at his fallen friend. The old man didn't even waver.

"Who are you?" he asked again, calmly.

Travis remained silent, still shaken by his mate's sudden death. He glanced around the room quickly, looking for something. A few seconds later, he found it.

The old man pointed at the large splinter embedded in Travis's friend's head. He moved his finger from left to right, and as he did so, the splinter started to move out of his skull. His finger moved slowly upwards, and the splinter hovered into the air, and suspended itself in midair, pointed straight at Travis's face. It glistened with its previous victim's blood.

"Now, I'm going to ask you for the last time…who are you and what are you doing here?" the old man growled.

Travis didn't reply, but he reacted quickly. Behind the old man, sitting on a small bench, was a large glass vase. He pointed at it and just as quickly, moved his finger at the old man.

The vase flung itself at the old man's head. It shattered as soon as it made contact. Several thousand tiny shards of glass embedded themselves into the old man. He collapsed into a heap on the ground, a thin trail of blood seeping out of his face. The floating splinter of wood fell to the ground.

Travis breathed heavily. He quickly glanced at his dead buddy, and then ran as fast as he could out of the house.

As soon as he burst out of the front door, he blanched, and whirled around and ran back in.

There were at least ten police cars parked outside on the street. Cops were standing virtually outside the door, guns pointed at Travis. As soon as Travis retreated back into the house, the police open fired, the front door and its surroundings peppered with bullet holes.

Travis ran up past his dead friend and the old man and ran up the fleet of stairs leading to the second storey.

As he reached the seventh step, the front door burst open and the police swarmed in, guns raised.

Travis reached the second storey and quickly took a quick look at where he could go.

There were three doors, one leading to the old man's bedroom, one to the bathroom and one to an unknown room. On the wall to the far left, there was a small window that could probably fit someone through it.

Travis ran up to the unknown room's door and flung it open. What was inside shocked him.

Several rotting corpses lay on beds in the room. There was a slight scent of pine in the room. Travis backed away from the room, just as the police got to the top of the stairs. Travis looked at the window and punched the air. The glass on the window shattered and left Travis a clear escape route. He sprinted for the window, while pointing at the pile of broken glass and sweeping his finger towards the police. Occasionally, a piece of glass would fly from the pile and shoot through one of the cops, killing them.

Travis reached the window and in a quick movement dived out through the window.

The cops ran to the window and peered out, looking for Travis. He was gone.

One of the cops in the house pulled out a radio and spoke into it.

"We just missed him sir. He is currently somewhere on Paters Street."

"I see. We'll get him soon enough. In the meantime Officer Daniels, gather up your squad and look for that Multi Manipulator down on Seventh."

"Yes, sir."

Officer Daniels stuck the radio back in his pocket and turned around.

"Okay, let's get out of here."

The cops all turned around and went back down the stairs to exit the house.

Meanwhile, Travis was hiding in amongst a large shrub just below the window. In one hand, he held a rather large shard of glass, just in case anyone poked their heads out the window and saw him in the shrub. As soon as the cops were gone, he got up out of the shrub and ran to a nearby car across the street. He looked at the window of the car for a second, and then he closed his fist and opened it quickly. The window shattered and Travis reached inside and unlocked the door. As he sat down, the cops started to flood back out onto the streets, and he realized he didn't have a key for this car. It didn't take long for the cops to notice the smashed glass and Travis taking refuge in the car. They immediately open fired.

Travis reacted by jumping out of the car and diving behind it just as it was raked with about a hundred bullets.

"Take him down!" one of the cops yelled to his comrades, hoping to motivate them. What happened next did the exact opposite.

Travis reached another car, and without hesitation, shattered the glass and with individual flicks of his finger, sending each shard flying straight towards each cop's forehead. Each went down almost instantly in lashes of blood. There were only a few left standing after Travis was through with him. They ran off behind a few trash cans after seeing the gruesome deaths of their fellow officers.

Travis turned around to see what was going on with the remaining officers, but that's when it happened.

From a distance of about fifteen feet, Travis's shoulder was hit by a bullet. He was hurled back by the impact, dropping to the ground, still alive, but barely. Blood poured from the wound profusely. He groaned in pain, just as his shooter walked slowly up to him. Before he blacked out, Travis could just make out an enormous scar running from the shooter's right eye down to the corner of his mouth. That was all he saw before he lapsed into a deep sleep.

_**Unknown location, present time**_

Travis eyes flickered open, after recapping the events prior to his confinement. His wounded shoulder burned with pain. With slight difficulty, he rose to his feet and had one last look around for a trapdoor, a hidden exit, anything to escape from this prison. He found none, so he just slumped against the wall once more, waiting for an escape opportunity.

After about a half hour of waiting, a dull droning noise coming from the roof of his cell stirred him. As soon as he looked up, he saw a peculiar sight.

The metal ceiling was warping, _twisting_, and moulding itself out of shape. Within ten seconds, in the roof of Travis's prison, a small hole about three feet wide was cleanly cut into the roof. Travis continued to stare up at the hole, when a person peered down into the hole from on top of his cell. He seemed strangely familiar. He had slick jet black hair, a slightly distorted face and a scar running from his right eye down to the corner of his mouth.

_He was looking at the man that shot him_.

"Travis Parker," the man suddenly spoke, startling Travis, "Born 28th January, 1999. Raised by father, mother deceased upon birth. Studied for three years at NYU, worked at glass factory for further six years."

Travis stared at this man, bewildered. _He knew everything about him_.

"That's quite a nice little talent you have there Travis," the man said, "Dangerous as well. You killed sixteen officers back in New York. You're very lucky that I stepped in before they could get to you."

Travis stared right into the man's eyes. They were cold, impassive. They seemed to glow even in the dim light flooding into the cell.

"Where am I?" Travis asked hoarsely. He tried to take a look out behind the man into the outside world, but all he could see was dark blue sky. Nothing else.

"I am not authorised to tell you. But I can tell you this. You're not going anywhere."

Suddenly a man holding an automatic rifle walked up to and stood next to the man. He was wearing combat fatigues.

"Sir , we are approaching the Monolith. ETA two hours. We need to turn on the cloaking device. You know you can't be out here when it's on." the new man said.

The man nodded, whilst still staring at Travis. "I'll be up in a few minutes." The other man nodded and walked away hastily.

"Now Travis. Don't get any false feelings about us. We're doing this to protect you. There are a lot of people out there that would like to get their hands on you."

"Yeah. You're probably one of those people," Travis muttered.

The man heard this and started to laugh.

"Oh Travis. You're file said you were a funny one. No, I am not one of those people. We intend to keep you in solitary confinement until these people are eliminated. Don't worry, you'll have a couple thousand people to befriend once we arrive.

"Arrive where?" Travis asked harshly. He quickly glanced around the roof, looking for a speedy means of escape.

The man quickly glanced at something out of Travis's field of vision.

"My time here is up," the man said hurriedly. I'll see you in a couple of days."

"Days?!" Travis yelled, "You're gonna leave me in here for _days_?!"

The man stared at him silently. Without a second thought, he whipped out a small handheld tranquilizer gun and fired it at Travis.

It didn't miss. A small purple dart struck Travis in the neck, pumping its payload of relaxants into Travis's bloodstream. The last thing he saw before he blacked out, was the man waving his hand gently over the hole in the roof. The hole slowly began to reform into a part of the cell roof. Before it closed completely, the man said something to someone before he blacked out. He could just hear it.

"When we arrive put him in cell #485456MT, next to Garter and Barlow. Supply him with rations daily through Chronos. He isn't going anywhere in a hurry."


End file.
